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Part IV
I didn’t go to school in April 30, the Friday that was
officially announced as Senior skip day by students, and
secretly known by teachers and principals of the school. It was
a Friday before the much anticipated prom, the ‘secret garden’
of this repeating, boring year. I did want to go that day, since
I desperately needed help with my physics homework, and the
stress and work given by school would lighten my guilt of being
too chicken to ask Elly out to Prom.
But even if I wanted to go to school, I couldn’t. The sickness
that I had been hiding for the whole week had finally caught me,
and made me pay it in increasing interest. As I was brushing my
teeth, and my mom readied herself to take my brother to school,
the sickness had decided to start a revolution then, and the
first place it would start would be my stomach. And as it
conquered my stomach, I threw up on our white toilet, before my
mom had left the house. I haven’t thrown up in five years
already, so this act surprised my mom a lot, who made me stay
home, not for the sake of my sickness, since she knows I’m far
too strong to be beaten by this silly the disease, but for the
fear that I would throw up in the middle of the class, which had
happened a long time before, when I was in elementary school.
I didn’t want to close my eyes then, for the darkness usually
brings back that secret smile on her face. I had met her a
couple of times after that fated meeting at the Dayton Mall, on
weekends or the middle of mid-weekdays. We usually just shop
around the different malls this Kettering city could offer, or
go fishing with my dad in small lakes and rivers around the
city. She liked fishing, so much unlike me.
His uncle had become good friends with my dad, and met more
often than I did with Elly, calling each other on the phone
right after they arrived home, gone every afternoon on fishing
trips, two fishing companions till the end. We went with them
only a day in the week, me just to be with Elly, since I really
hated fishing, a sport that shouldn’t be called sport at all,
since nothing ever happens.
I was able to learn that she lived not in another state, but
just in a mansion near Spring Lake, which was in a place near
the Cub Foods, which was near Magic Castle, at the edge of
Kettering City. She studied in Miami Valley School, the private
school that my cousins had graduated from, a school that was
supposed to be “One of the best schools in Ohio.” I’ve heard
that the school’s tuition costed a lot but I’ve never went
further than that in my investigation of the school, since I
didn’t care about which school she went to, I only cared about
her.
She drove one of those weird Firebird cars, a red car that was
well waxed and polished. She was always the one taking me
anywhere, since I didn’t have a driving license yet, because I
had no car. She didn’t seem to mind about it, but just giggled
every time I brought that fact up. We haven’t kissed again, not
since that first kiss at the Dayton Mall. I didn’t dare to,
since I was a chicken and too shy to start anything new, and she
seemed to not want to start the kiss again, maybe waiting for me
to start, maybe waiting for me to get enough courage to start.
And that’s pretty much how our weird relationship had gone, me
too chicken to do anything to advance our friendship to the next
step, and she waiting patiently for me to start, for my
metamorphosis to finally end.
And with those thoughts’ in my mind, I fell asleep once again,
eyes closed by the magic sleeping sands of the tiny sandman. I
dreamt that I was myself, except that I was dressed differently,
not in my occasional T-shirt jeans with black basketball shoes,
but in shirts and tie, black leather shoes covering my white
socked feet, black pants to fit above them, and dark-rimmed
glasses covering my brown eyes. Even though I was dreaming of
me, it seemed as if I was outside of that dream body of me, as
an invisible narrator watching over the events that unfolds.
I had one of those white thin coats that doctors word in health
checkups, and a little nameplate with my picture pinned on the
right side of it. I was running, away from someone, fear
thumping my heart. Elly was running beside me, wearing also the
white coat and little name plate with that white dress she wore
at the Dayton Mall, her hair dancing in the empty air, as she
ran beside me, sweat dripping on our cheeks.
I didn’t know why we were running in the dream, but instinct
told me to run faster, faster, away from the people, or things,
that were chasing us. And I think that was when I heard the
gunshot, as loud as the thunders itself, echoing the lighted
white hallway that surrounded us.
Elly screamed then, as I saw her fall down on the dirty floor,
out of the corner of my eye. I quickly stopped, and caught the
falling girl, heavy on my weak arms. I think I knelt then, as I
saw the red blood spurt out of Elly’s chest, her hands trying to
cover it out of my sight, but still unable to stop the flow of
the life liquid.
“Stop, doctor! Or we’ll shoot!” Some thunderous voice yelled at
us, heavy footsteps heard by my trembling ears. Elly lied
bleeding in my arms, her green eyes half-closed, watching
carefully at me.
I remember looking up then, seeing beardless white men surround
us, dressed in soldier uniforms, uniforms that seemed like Nazi
uniforms, like those seen in Indiana Jones movies. They pointed
at us, ready to shoot, ready to kill, at the least movement of
our muscles.
My eyes went back to Elly once again, whom was slowly dying of
the mortal wound, the blood gushing out like a fountain. She
wore that gentle smile on her beautiful face, her red hair felt
by my shaking hands. “Protect... Our daughter... Sho...” She had
whispered with effort, the blood filling the inside of her
mouth, her teeth colored by it. “Don’t... Let them... Hurt...
Our child...”
“They won’t, Linda.” I heard my mouth answer, saying the name as
if I had said it before, as if it had always been her name,
instead of Elly. And I answered to the name Sho also, as if it
had always been my name, as if the names Tom or Liang-Tang had
never existed. “I promise.”
I felt pellets of tears fall down my cheeks, sliding down the
curves of my cheeks, as I watch Elly, or should I say Linda,
slowly die away in my arms. “Promise me...” She whispered once
again, her eyes almost closing now. “That... When I’m reborn...
You will... Be reborn there... With me... Too...”
“Get up, Doctor Watashi.” A newer voice, a stronger voice,
yelled at me. This voice must have belonged to the leader of the
group, the killer of all these killers. But even with the
introduction of this new voice, I ignored them all, not raising
my eyes anymore, but just stare at the red-haired woman, who’s
blood was slowly going away, eyes almost closed.
“I promise, Linda.” I had responded with sobs rising out of me,
eyes now met with the rushing tears pouring out freely out of my
brown eyes. “I will follow you to wherever you go, even to the
depths of hell, or across time and space to be with you, just to
be with you.”
“I’m glad...” She uttered with a soft whisper,
her eyes watching me for the last time. “Will you wait... And
love me... Till then?”
“Nothing will ever change that...” I had given a sad smile then,
my eyes still wet with the running tears. She had smiled also,
that gentle smile she always showed on her beautiful face, as
she closed her eyes and died, once again, away from me, once
again, away from my life.
A loud roaring from a fleeting motorcycle had woke me up then,
as my eyes opened up with shock, wet from the running tears. The
tears had surprised me, for I haven’t cried for almost nine
years now, and I wasn’t able to stop crying now, as if jinxed by
a malicious witch.
I got out of the bed and went into a cold shower, wishing to
wash the tears away with the freezing morning water. I never
take hot shower anymore, for I seem to have become allergic to
the warmth that the world provides. I couldn’t tell if I was
still crying or not, for the cold water mixed with my tear
drops, becoming one before falling out of my cheek.
It was noon by the time I got out of the shower. I really didn’t
have anything else to do that morning. I couldn’t play football,
for all my friends were still in school, and beer is out of the
question, for Rick wasn’t home and my parents didn’t drink.
It wasn’t such a bad day outside, the sun shining on the back
barbecue stand, the birds chirping and flying in the blue sky.
That was when I thought about Elly once again, her image
haunting my mind once again. I had to do something to take her
off my mind.
I called Rick’s beeper number, for he would cal me back if he’s
skipping class today. But then I was without anything else to do
again. that was when I remembered about Stephanie, the
ex-girlfriend of Rick. I knew her too well to know that she’s
skipping class today, for she had skipped every Senior skip day,
ever since we were both freshman on our beloved High School.
Stephanie was a late sleeper, more of a night’s person than a
morning one. She slept till two o’clock in the afternoon every
weekend and free days we had, a habit of hers that used to bug
Rick’s and my schedule in summer vacations. And so, because of
this, I knew that she was still at home, since it was only
one-something right now.
“Hello?” She answered after the phone had rang for at least five
minutes, her voice groaning with sleepiness and tiredness. Her
parents worked in mornings, owner of some small shoe factory.
“Hi, we’re doing a survey on teen prostitution.” I said in a
graver voice, trying to imitate the voice of the announces in TV
commercials. “I would like to ask you a few questions, like how
much sex do you have every night you work...”
“Ha, ha, ha.” Stephanie laughed sarcastically, not sounding
exactly happy in her reply. “What the hell are you doing home,
Tom?”
“Oh, you know, the same things I do every time I skip school,” I
replied. “Sit in front of the computer, watch naked girl, in the
Internet, and spank my monkey till I get tired of it. How about
you?”
“Ha, ha, ha.” She replied once again in that non-happy mood.
Man, it’s so hard to raise her spirits, since she laughs at no
jokes. “You should be a standing comedian when you grow up,
Tom.”
“Nah, I don’t like standing. I’ll be a sitting comedian when I
grow up.”
“Let’s talk seriously for a second, will ya? Why
are you home?”
“What, do you me ‘why am I home’? Why are you
home?”
“Because it’s senior skip day.” She answered simply, as if that
explains everything. “How about you?”
“The same answer as the one you just uttered.”
“But you never skip school!”
“Well, there’s always a first time for everything.”
She was silent for a few seconds, probably unsatisfied by my
answers. I’m still wondering how did she and Rick make such a
great couple, since they were so opposite each other, and she’s
so hard to satisfy or cheer up in every problem she meets. “Come
on, Tom, enough jokes already. Why are you home?”
“Well,” I said in an uninterested voice. “I
threw up in the morning, and my mom made me stay home. That’s
all, really.”
“Is it the sprite and cracker trick?”
“No!” I yelled out, as if I was offended by her
response. “This was real, pure, 100% pure puke. I don’t fake
anything to my mom.”
“Okay, okay.” She replied. At least she didn’t
sound that unhappy anymore. A clicking sound was heard through
the phone receiver, as foreign voices suddenly boomed and mixed
with her voice. “Chill out, Tom.”
“So what are you doing today? Besides lying on
your bed, watch TV, and talk to me through the phone.”
“I don’t know. Why?” She replied uninterested.
“ ’Cause I’m bored and I need something to keep me busy for the
next few hours. So what, you wanna go grab some lunch right
now?”
“I just woke up, Tom!”
“Okay, okay...” I replied as I thought of something else to say,
to keep the phone conversation. “You win. But I don’t think
we’ll find any place that is selling breakfast right now, you
know?”
“Ha, ha, ha.” There’s that sarcastic laugh once
again. “very funny, Tom.”
“The Prom is this weekend, you going?”
The clicking sound came once again, as the
foreigner voices disappeared in the same way they had appeared
before. Stephanie was silent, as I heard something fall down
onto the floor. “Stephanie?” I asked with a concerned voice,
leaning forward in my seat, as if this motion would make me see
her through telephone lines. “Yo, Stephanie, are you okay
there?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” She yelled back, her
voice sounding in a different tone than the one I had heard
before. “The remote fell to the floor, that’s all. I’m okay...”
“You sure?” I asked, as I head her sniff her nose. “You don’t
sound so fine...”
“No, I’m really okay.” She replied rapidly. Her tone sounded
like a fake happy one, one belonging to a bad liar or/and actor.
Before I could say anything else, she continued her part of the
conversation. “Did you know that I dyed my hair red yesterday
night?”
“No, I didn’t.” I replied, my mind imagining what must be
happening there. “Why did you dye it red? You didn’t like your
blond hair or something?”
“Well, you know, I wanted a change...” She said.
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” I paused, thinking if it was a good idea to
ask her about the Prom again. “So, I haven’t seen you around.
What have you been doing this whole time, huh?”
“Nothing.” She answered simply.
“Really?” I said, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry.”
“Huh? What did you say?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” She asked curiously.
“You know, about Rick breaking up with you.”
“Oh.” She said. Do’h! My big mouth has once again hurt people’s
lives.
“I’m sorry.” I said immediately, hitting my forehead, trying to
knock my stupidness out of me. “I didn’t mean to...”
“No, that’s okay.” She said, her voice cracking up. “I’m already
way past that.”
Stephanie, you’re such a rotten liar, I thought at that moment,
wishing that every person were able to have my ability to lie
professionally, so then I wouldn’t detect a bad lie, and think
about it, or why they were hiding the truth from me. Even though
the reasons were clear to me, that she was hiding her pain, that
she still wanted to appear as that independent and strong woman,
as she had always appeared to me and our friends. “You sure
about that?” I asked, concerned about her.
“No, I’m really okay.” Another sniff. A pause of just a few
seconds. “Can you believe that Rick broke up with me through a
goddamn phone line?” She had said in a louder voice, almost a
yell, as if she was declaring a war, the screams of the woman
warriors. “Can you believe that, Tom?”
“No, I can’t.” He did that? That bastard! I’m going to have a
fist-talk with him after he gets back.
“Yeah, I know.’ She said, a fake laugh through the receiver.
“It’s as if he’s a kid or something. I mean, whoever does that
in High School, right? And he’s a goddamn freshman in college!”
“Right!” I responded. At least this was kind of getting her
spirit up. “When do boys break up like that? Not even Junior
High kids do that.”
“Uh-huh! Rick is such a chicken, that he wouldn’t even break up
with me face-to-face. Through a phone line! Can you believe
that?”
“Did he really just call you up and told you that he was
breaking up with you?” I asked, not even knowing that I asked
that!
“Yeah, the fucking prick just called me up at night, and told me
that he was breaking up with me.” She was yelling now, declaring
an invisible war of her own, telling the world that she’s brave
and strong, that she won’t give her pride up in this
male-dominated world.
“He didn’t even give you a reason for breaking up with you?”
“He did.” She replied, not yelling no longer, the courage seemed
to have diminished in her heart. “He just gave me some nonsense
about feeling too close to me, so close that I was seeming more
like a friend than a lover. He said that he wanted to only be
friends, not as lovers.” A pause, that sniff haunting the
receiver once again. “Can you believe that bullshit, Tom? Can
you believe that he actually said that to me?”
“No, I can’t.” And I really couldn’t see Rick say such a bad lie
like that one, considering that he’s such a great writer and
poet. I would have expected a better lie than that one, and a
more believable one too.
“And only three days after we’d had sex.” Ouch, that one did get
through my heart. Stephanie sounded on the verge of crying, her
courage diminishing smaller and smaller, till it is no longer
recognizable by her heart.
“That’s horrible.” That was the only thing I could think of
saying to her.
“Can you believe that?” She kept repeating that question to me,
over and over again. “Can you believe that, Tom? Can you?”
I couldn’t, I really couldn’t. That didn’t sound like the Rick I
knew, that didn't sound like my drinking buddy through the
nights, that didn’t sound like the writer I’ve met. Is this the
true him? Have I seen and known nothing but his shadow? Do I
even know my best friend anymore? “That’s horrible.” I repeated
once again, unable to think of anything else. “That’s horrible.”
She didn’t say anything for a while, probable busy wiping her
tears dry, or fighting to not cry while I was talking to her
through the phone. “You sound tired, Stephanie.” I said after a
few seconds of silence, trying to give her an excuse to hang the
phone and cry. “Why don’t I just call you back later, so you can
go back to sleep?”
“I can’t sleep, Tom.” She responded, that sniff once again. “I
can’t sleep at night, Tom. I stay up all night crying, you know,
my tears just not wanting to stop at all. Shit!... I love him so
much, Tom, that when I heard him speaking those words, I just
broke down and cried right after he hang up the phone. Oh, God,
Tom! I just love him so much!”
I was pretty much as sad as she was now, as if her sadness had
somehow contaminated me though the phone receiver, slipping
invisibly through the plastic-metal phone lines. “You must feel
better now that you’ve let it out, huh?” I had replied without
thinking, sticking my foot into my mouth once again, trying to
make things worse.
That sniff again. “Yeah, it does.” She sounded better now, not
as sad as before. At least that’s what it appeared to me, for I
was unable to see her tears or smile through my dull, gray phone
receiver.
“That’s good.” Once again, the brain-blacked, unable to think of
anything else to say. “I’m glad that you feel better.”
“Thanks, Tom.” She had said, as if I had made her feel better
through my stupidness. “I do feel better now. Thanks.”
“Well, if you need anything else, just call me, okay?”
“Sure. Later, Tom. And thanks a lot.”
“No prob. See ya.” I had responded, as she hang her side of the
line, and I held the phone receiver like a retard, hearing the
dial tone replace the sobbing voice of Stephanie. I hang up
after a minute, millions and billions of thoughts flooding my
lazy mind, the shame that was usually occupying my tiny brain.
I’m such a jerk! I thought, as I slammed my head on the white
kitchen wall, feeling the pain bite hungrily on the contact
spot. I’m such a goddamn stupid dumb jerk!
I couldn't believe that I had said such things to her, be so
insensitive to the moments and pains that she was going through,
ask her about the things that pained her, let my curiosity have
the best of me. I’m such a jerk! Is this how I repay my friends,
for all of their years of companionship? I’m so selfish, just
thinking about satisfying the hungers of my curiosity, even if
it was paid by the tears and cries of a good friend!
I got out of the kitchen room and returned to my own bed, the
softness of the bed did not comfort me, nor did it tempt me to
sleep. I’m sorry, Stephanie, I kept thinking, as if she could
telepathically hear my screaming thoughts. I’m sorry for asking
you such stupid things, for being such a rude and heartless
friend.
I should have called her and apologized to her. But I didn’t. I
just lied on my bed, and felt sorry for myself, feel ashamed at
my stupidness, my heartlessness, and my weakness... |
